Before I tell this story, you need to know that I don’t walk around the world looking for ghosts; however, I am sensitive to energy around me, and since I’ve gotten older (sad face), I seem to be able to identify or sense more energy. For example, I live in a 118-year-old home in an older part of the city, so guess what? There’s energy here. I believe that we leave “remnant” pieces of ourselves in places when we have spent time, but that doesn’t mean that it is negative. Other people often think it’s fun to tell stories about evil ghosts, and I’m not denying their existence.
This story also takes place at the girls’ boarding school. This time we’re away from the classrooms, on the third floor of what was called the senior annex. The whole top floor was purposed for different things over time. When I was there part of the floor was a large classroom used for testing and study halls.
It was early September, and I was placement testing my international students for English ability. I did it every year, usually in this large room. I had proctored final exams and study halls many times in this room without noticing any energy, but in that particular year, the energy or ghosts removed all of my schedules and papers for school orientation.
I didn’t notice until the last student had left, and I was packing up everything. I had the test booklets and answer keys, but what had happened to my notebook and all the orientation schedules? I tore apart the desk and room, but I could see the 25 desks had nothing in them. Where had I been? I thought. The little old-fashioned bathroom? Okay, but not likely. No, nothing there.
I walked all around the third floor, my steps seeming to creak more loudly as a went. I wondered. Would the girls have taken my stuff as a prank? Not likely. These students were new and nervous as me going to the dentist. Besides, most of them were not used to speaking English.
By the end of the afternoon, I had given up. I had spoken to faculty members but no one had seen any missing papers and a notebook. I checked my mailbox and my classroom. Sighing, I went back to the office, grabbed another schedule and carried on with the evening activities.
After a few days, I forgot about the missing papers. I just figured I had put them somewhere and forgot where that “logical” place was.
Randomly, one evening, I mention the “lost papers” to my husband, and he immediately suggests I go up to the study room when no one is there and talk to the ghosts.
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“No, just nicely ask the ghosts if you can have your papers back,” he said.
So, the next afternoon, when no one was around. I asked the ghosts if I could have my papers back. I felt silly, and I walked away thinking nothing more about it.
This was several months into the school year, and I really didn’t need those papers back, but to my alarm and surprise, the next day they showed up in my mailbox. Everything. I was shaking because I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. I ran to the admin secretary and quizzed her. Had she put these papers in my mailbox? No. I asked other faculty and staff, especially the dorm staff and housekeepers.
No. No. No. No one had put those papers in my mailbox.